


just like me (but 6 foot 3)

by adeleblaircassiedanser



Category: Veep
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, My kink is people telling Jonah to shut the fuck up, Not!Fic, Pre-Slash, Sexual Tension, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7051888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeleblaircassiedanser/pseuds/adeleblaircassiedanser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gotta give you credit,” Jonah says. “This is some Mad Men-level shit.”</p><p>The bitch of it is, he’s not wrong. Dan forces himself to look away from Jonah’s forearms as he rolls his sleeves up. *Egan, this is Jonah Ryan. We’re not doing this.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rillrill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/gifts), [iniquiticity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iniquiticity/gifts).



> @rillrill asked me yesterday for the shopping trip that led to the outfit that led to the fuckboys banging for the first time. @iniquiticity asked for some more stuff which will show up in the next chapter, but I wanted to get this out tonight. Sorry it's so late, work was crazy. 
> 
> Title from "Menswear" by the 1975 for obvious reasons.

In his rush to accept a job he’d already turned down and travel across six states to reach this mildewed hellhole of a campaign office, Dan hadn’t gotten around to actually _watching_ the focus group footage which had made him such an essential hire. He closes the door to his new office, Jonah staring dumbfounded through the window blinds, and gets down to doing exactly that.

 

It’s honestly worse than he could have thought, and he’s known Jonah for years now. Thin-skinned is one thing, but Jonah hasn’t thrown a full on tantrum at anything Dan has said in a long time. And Dan has said stuff way worse than “that wood won’t burn right” or  “his body is too big for his head”. Which, the lady has a point. With his hair flopping around like that he looks like a cross between a ninth-grader and a ninth-grader’s aging lesbian teacher running around the room like a fucking- Dan doesn’t even know what. Anyway, for once this line of thinking isn’t productive. Now that Jonah’s general suckitude is going to reflect on Dan as well, it’s time to think in terms of solutions.

 

With that in mind, Dan looks at the basic campaign documents next. When his eyes alight on the current budget he’s bewildered and relieved in equal measure. Where did all that money come from? This isn’t a super PAC, there are limits, right? It must be coming directly out of Jonah’s trust fund. _Jesus._ Talk about sending good money after bad. And for God’s sake, how does someone with this much disposable income dress that badly?

 

Dan glances over the schedule for the next couple of days. There are other issues they need to iron out- a stump speech to keep Jonah from ever going off the cuff again is one- but before the diner meet and greet this afternoon something must be done about Jonah’s whole- thing.

 

“Get up, loser,” he says, stalking into the main office and imbuing his voice with the utmost detached authority. “We’re going shopping.”

 

“Mean Girls reference. A classic,” Richard says approvingly.

 

“I assume someone here has a car?” Dan says, tapping his fingers on the edge of a desk.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Jonah says. “I have my mom’s  Acura.”

 

 _At least it’s not the box,_ Dan thinks. He would normally say something mean here, but he’s really trying to channel his energy constructively. “Alright, let’s go then.”

 

“Richard?” Jonah says, and Dan notes with annoyance that he sounds _nervous_.  

 

“Um,” Richard says, “I really think I’m needed here. You can’t launch a campaign without a soundtrack. And we still don’t have the balloons arranged for tonight-”

 

“Okay,” Dan says, fed up. “There will be no fucking balloons. It’s a campaign launch in a high school cafeteria. Chill. Jonah, outside,” and Jonah, bless him, complies.

Jonah drives them to Pheasant Lane Mall, which he claims is the best mall in Nashua. This turns out to be a textbook example of “damning with faint praise,” as Dan fact-checks on his phone and discovered he’s somehow landed in a town with no Brooks Brothers.

 

He looks up from his phone to find Jonah pulling into the parking lot of a-

 

“Jonah, tell me you don’t shop at Sears?”

 

“Why are you so picky? Why can we not just go in to fucking Sears and buy some pants?”

 

“Uh, because it’s not the 1940s? And we’re not shopping for a new washer-dryer combo?” Dan, honest to God, is starting to feel a little nauseous. How the fuck is he going to get this rubber scarecrow elected to the United States House of Representatives?

 

“I still don’t get what’s wrong with the clothes I have. How long is this gonna take?”

 

“Jonah,” Dan says, in what he thinks is a very patient tone, considering. “I’m going to explain again. You _shut the fuck up, and do what I say,_ and I try to pull your hairless camel ass through the eye of a needle and win you this fucking seat. Okay? We’re not going to Sears.”

 

They end up settling for Banana Republic as a stopgap- honestly, the bulk of what they need can be ordered online, but there will be cameras at the appearances this afternoon and the current situation is, to put it shortly, an emergency. Banana only has one suit in Jonah’s size, and only because it was an online return. It’s not a perfect fit, but it could be much worse. They get a couple of choices of ties from Express- Dan had a feeling that a skinny tie would be a stronger look on Jonah, and he was not wrong. He spots the fake glasses in the checkout line and grabs them on a whim. They’re a little bit George McFly, but honestly even the weird dad Michael J. Fox cuckolds in that movie is a step up from Jonah’s current look.

 

“Wait here,” he tells Jonah, and leaves him on a bench, eating a mall pretzel and playing some game on his phone. So far, this job bears a stark resemblance to high-stakes babysitting. Dan goes into Target, buys some kind of hair product- nothing very good, but Jonah won’t know the difference- and a comb.

 

“Okay, big guy,” he says. “You did it. We’re done.”

 

“Finally,” Jonah says. “I’m never doing this again. Let’s get back to the office.”

 

“Firstly, you are doing this again. Potentially, like, tomorrow. We only bought one suit. Also, right now you have to shower. You’re literally covered in cinnamon sugar and you smell like failure.”

 

Jonah whines about it but he drives them back to his mom’s house in the suburbs. As always, Jonah’s mom is thrilled to see him. Dan gives excellent parent, and the more it pisses Jonah off the more fun it is. Dan waits in the living room and chats with Mrs. Ryan for twenty minutes or so. Finally, Jonah comes out with his shirt untucked, and he’s done something to his tie-

 

“Excuse us, Deborah,” Dan says with a smile. Once they’re in the other room he hisses, exasperated.

 

“How long have you been working in DC? How the fuck do you not know how to tie a Windsor?”

 

Jonah looks down dumbly. “What’s wrong with it?”

 

“Jesus wept,” Dan says. “Sit down.” Jonah sits obediently on the bed and lets Dan fix the tie. Dan turns to the hair next. Jonah’s natural part is okay, and with his hair already wet from the shower it’s easy to comb the really horrible front bits out of his face and slick them back with product. Somewhere on the periphery, a few rogue brain cells are registering his position, standing between Jonah’s open thighs, hands touching his scalp, his neck- _this is not a thing,_ Dan reminds them.

 

After a minute or two, Dan tilts his head to the side appraisingly, then hands Jonah the glasses and steps aside to let him check out the results in the wardrobe mirror.

 

“Gotta give you credit,” Jonah says. “This is some Mad Men-level shit.”

 

The bitch of it is, he’s not wrong. Dan forces himself to look away from Jonah’s forearms as he rolls his sleeves up. _Egan, this is Jonah Ryan. We’re not doing this_.

 

 _Cufflinks_ , he thinks loudly. Tomorrow they need to buy cufflinks.

 

Dan checks his phone. “Jesus,” he says. “It’s three thirty already. We need to roll.”

 

On their way back to the car Jonah’s mom stops them and takes a picture on her phone.

 

“Joanie, you look so handsome,” she says. Dan constructively waits until they’re pulling out down the driveway before turning to Jonah.

 

“Sorry, _Joanie_? Is this a real thing?”

 

“Shut up, Dan.”

 


	2. like me (i'm never satisfied)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you mention Selina again this is not happening. Shut the fuck up.”
> 
> Jonah, dutifully, shuts the fuck up. So it happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This second part is based off an amazing prompt from @iniquiticity. I didn't really do it justice but I really want to commit to finishing one WIP (Radioactive) so I will leave you guys with this, even though the end is not!fic. 
> 
> iniquiticity said:  
> it's too late for jonah to take back being out, but they also think it's too risky for jonah to admit dan is his boyfriend, so they make up a fake boyfriend for jonah, and dan is jealous of the fake boyfriend
> 
> Chapter title from Hamilton, because of course it is.

Dan is fucking impulsive when he wants something. He’s always been that way- his moods take over and make decisions the way only alcohol seems to do for other people.. So it hardly even registers as a choice until it’s too late- until the applause has faded, the people of New Hampshire are mostly asleep, and he’s making eye contact with Jonah over the last dregs of their- fifth? - victory drink. Some part of him recognizes that this stale-smelling campaign office is a stupid place, even if he had to pick a place to make this colossal of a mistake. A larger part recognizes that they are way too drunk to drive anywhere else, and that the chance of getting an Uber back to his hotel at 2AM in what is essentially a New England sheep hamlet- anyway, the point is that he’s doing this. No use re-litigating it when his body is already closing the space between them, his mouth and brows forming the fuck-me face which has never failed him yet, and when Jonah, gaping like a fish, frowns and says “ _ Really? _ ”, Dan’s answer is ready. 

 

“Hurry up before I change my mind.”

 

Dan wishes absently as he’s being pulled down into Jonah’s lap in  _ his  _ desk chair, this is his office, damnit, and kissed wetly and thoroughly, that Jonah were bad at this, or awkward. Instead, it’s good, really good, warm hands sliding up under his shirt, one thumb running over his right hipbone, a tongue running over his teeth, and his head is actually  _ in it  _ instead of racing ahead the way it should be, mapping risks and possibilities. 

 

He almost snaps out of it, once, when Jonah traces a spit-slicked finger around his rim and mutters “I’ll show her anal. Cunt.”

 

Dan grabs Jonah’s wrist and glares at him. “If you mention Selina again this is not happening. Shut the fuck up.”

 

But Jonah, dutifully, shuts the fuck up. So it happens. 

 

\---

 

In the morning he wakes in his own hotel room (small mercies) and thumbs through twitter on his phone. His blood pressure spikes when one of the journalists he stalks- (different from the few that he actually follows, his twitter is too obviously White House) links to a piece in some third tier blog. It hasn’t hit Slate or Politico yet, thank God, but as he reads the tweet and watches the attached video his mouth drops open in disbelief. Last night’s memory in his mind is sort of a blur, more the feelings- fury overtaken by triumph and an accompanying death/sex drive - than any concrete events. Well, one concrete event, but this is hardly the first time Dan has slept with someone he shouldn’t have. This, though, is something different. Dan starts the video again, but the content doesn’t change. One line keeps ringing out no matter how many times he drags the progress bar back. 

 

“My boyfriend’s not a billionaire.”

 

“My boyfriend’s not-”   
  


“My boyfriend.”

 

\---

 

“Jonah, why did you say that?” Jonah shrugs, the obstinate expression on his face making him look even worse than usual. 

 

“What’s wrong with it? It was a good speech. Everyone loved it.”

 

Dan looks at the ceiling, then to the four corners of the room, trying not to blow up. “What… was… wrong… with it. Anyone?”

 

“Um,” Richard volunteers, actually  _ raising his hand  _ like this is civics homeroom. 

 

“Yes, Richard? Do you think you can help the candidate out with this one?”

 

“Well,” Richard says, “Despite recent changes in pop culture, outside of the major entertainment capitals of New York and Los Angeles recent polling shows the general voting public is still remarkably homophobic.” 

 

“Ding ding ding!” Dan says a little hysterically. “Now, Jonah, are you gay, or do you want to be New Hampshire’s next congressman?”

 

“I’m not gay,” Jonah says. “Ladies love Cool Jonah.”

 

Dan just lets that one ride. “Great! So you’ll walk it back. No major announcement, just a little press release saying you’re straight and it was a figure of speech-”

 

“I’m not straight,” Jonah says slowly, looking incredulously at Dan. “You’re not putting that in a press release.”

 

Dan bites the insides of both cheeks and starts reciting the Hail Mary backwards. If he murders the candidate, he’s out of a job. 

 

“Okay,” he says finally. “Well, they’re gonna run with this. If you’re not going to walk it back, we need an angle.”

 

\---

 

And then fake boyfriend, maybe someone from Jonah’s past in New Hampshire, someone local and likeable to soften his image. Dan gets really jealous, blah blah blah, fluff ensues. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone else wants to finish this please feel free it's suchhh a good prompt.


End file.
